It's Just a Ball
by Hiraku
Summary: Unless it's for the Phys. Ed requirement, there's no way in hell Metis would touch a football. Rated for Language. EDIT: It should be a one-shot. I forgot to change that status.


My deepest thanks to Schumie and Nuu, who dedicated their time to draw Honeydew. Josh and May definitely catches my eyes, and I do plan to write a long fic in the near future. Please, if you guys are still doing webcomic (more yaoi goodness in the future?), please let me know. I will be sure to read them!

Also, this is my attempt at a fluff, one-shot. It's not much, but… ah, I'll be quiet and let you guys read it :p

-Hiraku

* * *

It's just a ball. Just a harmless football.

So why did I never bother to even kick it? Wait, no, since WHEN did I even start thinking about football?

Oh yeah, that guy. The guy who barged into my life in the most **AGH** literal sense possible. I mean, he fucking **OW** punched me in the face in front of my locker!

I really hated his guts. I really do. That punch in the face. It's probably the only thing I hate about him. That makes me possibly the only one who has any problem with him. Aside from that punch, he's, god I hate to say this, a good guy! He has his stupid football friends, he has stupid cheerleader friends, he has teachers who obviously like him. Well, they didn't actually go all out and sing his praises in front of the whole class, but it's obvious with the way they talk to each other.

He seems alright.

So why do I hate him? Oh yeah, he punched me.

What the hell was that?! He just took it out on me like that and then he pretended that nothing happened the next day.

I hate him. I really do. I really want to.

But, what god out there would allow something like THIS **OW** happen!?

He just has to be my partner in some lame school project. He just has to barge in on me (again) when I was at the backstage. He just has to scream at the top of his lung when he thought I was attempting suicide on top of a roof.

Ha ha ha ha ha… He really thinks I'm emo, doesn't he? But that's not the point…

The point is, I can't believe it…. HE LIKES **agh** FUCKING BATMAN! Not that dumb Christian Bale Katie Holmes shit, the old school batman!

Okay, so he's not as jocky as that short hair makes him look. Don't get me wrong. He's still a jock. Just… not as jocky. But still a jock!

He just HAS to be less of a jock than he looks when he tries to be friendly, doesn't he?

Why does he have to be nice to me all of a sudden? My life would have been perfect. Things don't have to be so difficult, and I can keep hating him. Life will be simple, and I don't have to get distracted with **oof** more dumb shit than I already do!

Look at me **OW** I'm listening to myself speak right now, and I sound downright emo.

But, I'm not. I'm really, really not! Stupid jock has to fucking **OW** label me as one! I never think about shit like this until HE **OOF** comes along.

If I end up emo, it's his fault.

I'd honestly like to think that I'm a normal kid. Well, I'm NOT like the "normal" kids at school. Whatever goes on in their heads definitely does not **ow** resonate with whatever goes on in mine.

**OW**

Okay, back on track.

What the hell I'm doing here?

Wow, on another note, it's getting really hot. Sun's in my eye. There're things, prickly, prickly things, stabbing at my back. I'm sweating like I never had (Well, technically, I never had). And, my nose stings like hell.

**ACHOO**

Worst. Summer Day. Spent. Ever.

And, I still don't know what the hell I'm doing here.

Thank god Charles isn't here. He's definitely not gonna let me live this one down. Among the tons of other dumb shit I did.

"May?" Crap. I really don't feel like talking now.

"What the hell are you doing?" Oh… doesn't sound like Charles.

Wouldn't hurt to take a peek then…

"May?"

"Oh it's you," Thank god, it's just him. No, wait.

Good god, it's just him!

"You really aren't cut out for football, man. It's for your own good." There's a big hand in front of my face. Hm… big hand. Fleshy.

Maybe I should bite on that someday. I wonder how that would taste, but for today, I'll just take it with my hand. Like a normal human being would do.

"So what were you doing with a football? You're not… actually joining the football team, are you?"

**Ow**! You almost ripped my fucking arm off! And, what the hell, joining football team, so I will end up like you with your stupid football friends?

"Hell no!"

"But, you don't normally play football. Normally, I'd find you in your room playing Guitar Hero or something like that. And then, your mom told me you're at the football field." Yeah, normally, I would do that.

I shrugged. Nothing comes out of my mouth. It just… stretched a bit.

For a very short while.

"You definitely didn't get enough of that milkshake. Come on, I'm taking you to the mall." **Ow** Don't pat on my back like one of your stupid football friends.

"You're paying, right?" I muttered.

"Yeah, I will." At least say it like you mean it, jackass.

Wait, I still don't know what I was doing with a football.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

Oh yeah.

You are.


End file.
